"Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear. For I wear a thousand masks,
masks that I am afraid to take off and none of them are me." —Unknown

25 June, 2004 - 5:52 p.m. - Minor issues
I had a pretty solid entry planned for today but it didn't happen due to the huge project i'm working on lately. (Talk about missing deadlines...)

I've been having some counter issues and am also attempting to fix that. I may have to overhaul the template on this site because it comes up as a blank page on some machines, and i can't figure out whether it's a browser issue or a meta-tag issue.

In any case, the combination of these things and the move this weekend has me a little on the stressed side. I expect to be in better spirits on Monday and will hopefully post the missing entry between now and then.

24 June, 2004 - 12:59 p.m. - Incoherent
I'm working from the fog of sleeplessness today. I really need to not drink coffee after 6 PM; i was up until almost three this morning. The frustrating thing about it was that i was exhausted the whole time, so it wasn't even a productive bout of sleeplessness.

I feel as though i'm walking slowly through a haze of poetic phrases, everything around me shifting and uncertain. Behind every closed door is Schrödinger's Cat, just waiting for its determination: life or death for me, observer?

Adjectives float lazily by, metamorphosing into verbs like sprouts becoming flowers in those old jerky stop-motion grade school nature films. This is what it's really like underneath, isn't it? Our sense of continuum in vision is just a special effect....

No, no, this isn't meant to be coherent. Perhaps tomorrow.

23 June, 2004 - 12:27 p.m. - Punchy
My brain is too fried for me to post anything terribly thoughtful at the moment. So instead, i bring you the lyrics to "The Jug of Punch" as rendered by Altan. In honor of the date and all, that is.

Being on the twenty-third of June
Oh as I sat weaving all at my loom
Being on the twenty-third of June
Oh as I sat weaving all at my loom
I heard a thrush singing on yon bush
And the song she sang was the jug of punch

What more pleasure can a boy desire
Than sitting down, oh beside the fire
What more pleasure can a boy desire
Than sitting down, oh beside the fire
And in his hand, oh a jug of punch
And on his knee a tidy wench

When I am dead and left in my mold
At my head and feet place a flowing bowl
When I am dead and left in my mold
At my head and feet place a flowing bowl
And every young man that passes by
He can have a drink and remember I

Being on the twenty-third of June
Oh as I sat weaving all at my loom
Being on the twenty-third of June
Oh as I sat weaving all at my loom
I heard a thrush singing on yon bush
And the song she sang was the jug of punch

22 June, 2004 - 11:45 a.m. - They're on to us
Galileo the cat has decided that her new favorite toy is the belt from my bathrobe. She's taken to dragging it all around the apartment in a manner reminiscent of Linus van Pelt (from Peanuts) and his security blanket. Unfortunately, she's constantly looking for someone to swing it around so she can play with it. And we thought she was vocal before the belt.

We're moving on Saturday. I think the cats have figured this out. Surprisingly, Stella--who has always had some abandonment issues--seems okay with it. Either that, or she's attempting to bribe us with an unusual bout of affection. Gali, on the other hand, doesn't quite know what to make of all the boxes and absolutely hates the sound of packing tape being applied. I suspect she's afraid she's going to be left behind, hence the great desire to play and be acknowledged.

21 June, 2004 - 4:31 p.m. - What's in a name?
I'm not sure how i feel about this one. I'm still digesting and considering all the implications.

On the one hand, police officers need protections so that they can do their jobs properly. On the other hand, it seems to me that providing one's name shouldn't necessary for a Terry stop unless reasonable suspicion turns into probable cause. In any case, the ruling sits a little uneasily in my stomach.

Then again, had they ruled the other way, it would still probably make me a little uneasy...

21 June, 2004 - 12:14 p.m. - The Stepford Wives (2004)
Yesterday, B and i went to see The Stepford Wives with her parents. I can't comment on the faithfulness of the film to either the book or the first film version (as i haven't yet read the book or seen the first film), but i liked it.

Granted, it was far campier than it was scary, but these days, when the term "Stepford" is so much a part of the pop-culture unconscious, i don't think that remaking the film as a strict horror film would do it justice. Many critics have given negative reviews because of this, but i think many of them are missing a couple of things.

First, in response to critics who argue that the remake misses the opportunity for social criticism, i say: blah. The criticism that could have been levelled has already been, and on several occasions. Furthermore, the message that i'm inferring from the original is one that is somewhat less urgent today than it was in either 1972 (the year the book was published) or 1975 (the release year of the first film).

Second, i thought the film was intentionally ironic in its use of stereotypes and tokenism. In light of this, arguing that the film provided absolutely no social commentary misses the mark. Not too long ago, entertainment in this country came to the point where, in order to satisfy a sort of guilt-driven desire to be all-inclusive and politically correct, movies and television (especially television) started making exaggerated attempts to include minorities of all types. If nothing else, the 2004 version of The Stepford Wives comments on this--and this commentary is far more pertinent than a strictly feminist slant could provide.

Besides, does all entertainment need to provide social commentary? And does entertainment really need to provide social commentary in order to be thought-provoking? Honestly, as much of a fan as i am of social commentary (go through the last three years' worth of entries here if you don't believe me), i think the answer to that question is, "Not necessarily."

Anyhow, the film delights on an especially self-referentially postmodern level. Bottom line: don't go in expecting revelations, don't pay full price, and enjoy. It's a great weekend matinee kind of movie.